


Shuffle Step

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [60]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: Really sure you want me to do this? Chaz and I can just chill, I don’t have to tell him today.I dunno about sure but u shud yeahSerious question: phones have autocorrect, did you turn yours off or do you actively try to spell things wrong?





	Shuffle Step

**Author's Note:**

> For A, who is the reason Chaz Rossi has reached his true Chaz potential.

There’s something weirdly amazing about make-up sex. Like, Jared would never pick an argument for the sake of it — fights are hell — but whenever they see each other again after, holy shit.

In this case it’s Bryce breathlessly vocal under him while Jared twists two fingers in him, nailing his prostate if Bryce is any guide, Bryce’s cock spitting precome as Jared jerks him off slow and easy, a cruel counterpoint to the sharp stab of his fingers. It’s Bryce sucking him off so slow and good Jared feels like he’s going to cry before he comes, which as sex revenge goes, is pretty effective.

“So hey,” Jared says, when the afterglow wears off. “We should probably talk, eh?”

They are so fucking bad at this. Jared knows that, but the endorphins are still flowing, and like, isn’t that a good way to start a potential argument, full of good will? Probably not naked though. They should get dressed. It’s hard to be mad when Bryce’s body is like, right there, being not only amazing, but within touching distance.

“Yeah,” Bryce says, rolling over and slinging an arm around Jared’s hips, and Jared spends a second wondering if that’s like, a way to distract him, before he decides it’s just, you know, a thing a boyfriend fucking does and he’s being ridiculously suspicious. Bryce has his faults, but he doesn’t play games. 

Well. That’s not true, judging by the poor girl he was flirting with. But he doesn’t play games with Jared, and that’s — pretty damn clear, not only because he’s been almost painfully sincere, but because Jared loves him, but there is no fucking game Jared wouldn’t catch on the moment Bryce attempted it. Bryce isn’t subtle. Jared catches every time he has a fucking preference for something. Every ‘you want that pizza place we like or the Thai place we got last time?’ or ‘I’ve got a blue and a red Gatorade left, take whichever you want, I’ll take the other’, or ‘hey, you want to pull off or can I come in your mouth?’ has Bryce’s preference written clear as day if you bother to listen.

Bryce wanted pizza, the blue Gatorade, and to come in Jared’s mouth, for the record. And Jared obliged. Mostly. 

Look, blue Gatorade is objectively better, okay? Love doesn’t mean you have to drink the red kind.

Love also means they should probably talk about this now. Love’s a long game. Relationships need like, conflict to work better. Well, they don’t _need_ conflict, Jared guesses, but when there is conflict — and there absolutely is right now — it’s stupid to stick your head in the sand and pretend there isn’t any. That’s how you end up with a much bigger fight later.

Just as Jared’s gearing himself up to, you know, get back to said conflict, Bryce does it for him.

“Are you still mad?” Bryce asks, which is getting up there in ‘questions that invoke anger in a way that’s almost Pavlovian’. Jared reminds himself it’s a fair question, considering they just definitely banged, but fuck.

“Still a little,” Jared says. 

“Oh,” Bryce says, sounding disappointed.

“Please tell me you don’t think you like, sucked the anger out of me,” Jared says.

“Like, do you mean the blowjob, or—” 

Jared feels the sudden need to flick Bryce, and he’s close enough, so he can.

“Ow,” Bryce says, but not with feeling. Jared didn’t flick very hard. The endorphins are still flowing.

“C’mere,” Jared says.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Bryce says, but that doesn’t stop him from moving closer.

“I said a little,” Jared says. “And that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

“You too,” Bryce says, face buried in Jared’s throat. “Do we really have to — can we just—”

“We really have to,” Jared says, and Bryce sighs against his skin. “We don’t need to rehash like, everything, but the Chaz thing? We need to talk about.”

“I told you that you could tell him,” Bryce says.

“You did,” Jared says. “And I said we needed to talk about it, so let’s talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Bryce says. “I literally—”

“Bryce,” Jared says. “If you’re not comfortable with it —”

Bryce pulls away, sitting up, and Jared feels cold down his front where Bryce was lying, sits up to match him, because he feels weirdly defenceless lying down while Bryce is sitting.

“I honestly don’t know what you want from me here,” Bryce says. “Like, I thought you wanted people to know, but now you’re like, arguing against it.”

“I’m not,” Jared says. “I’m just saying there’s no hurry about telling anyone—”

“Isn’t there?” Bryce asks. “Because that’s not the feeling I got.”

“Hey,” Jared snaps. “Me asking you not to pretend you’re fucking other people isn’t the same as me asking you to tell people you’re fucking me.”

“I —” Bryce says, then. “I know, I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“It’s what?” Jared asks.

“I dunno,” Bryce says.

“No, by all means,” Jared says.

“Just make up your mind, okay?” Bryce says. “I need you to actually make up your mind.”

“I’ll text him now if you want me to,” Jared snaps.

“Fine,” Bryce snaps right back.

“Fine,” Jared says, and gets up to grab his phone from the pocket of his pants. When he turns around Bryce’s eyes slowly drift up to his face.

“Were you just looking at my ass?” Jared asks.

“Maybe,” Bryce mumbles, and Jared can’t help but laugh, feels a little relieved when Bryce laughs too. Apparently being mad not stopping wholesale ass appreciation isn’t a one-sided thing in their relationship.

Jared makes sure to brush Bryce’s arm when he gets back into bed, and the way Bryce firmly presses back is a relief too.

“Sure you want me to?” Jared asks. “I don’t want you coming out to be like, ‘I fucking dare you’ bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says. “Text him.”

 _Hey, you want to hang out soon?_ Jared texts Chaz, because that’s nice and neutral.

 _for sure_ , Chaz texts back, but doesn’t like, follow up with a date or time or anything, and the way Bryce is acting, he’ll crumble if this doesn’t happen in the next few days. It doesn’t help that the Hitmen are heading out of town again, and the second they’re back the Flames are off on their own thing. If it isn’t soon, it won’t be for over a week, and Bryce will probably spend every minute around Chaz anxious.

The thought of that has Jared texting _Are you free soon? Something I want to ask you about_ , and then, because that’s not quite right, _Or maybe just tell you? Anyway, it’s kind of important_

 _you ok?_ , Chaz texts, followed almost immediately by, _your not dying right?_

 _I’m not dying_ , Jared confirms. _It’s not bad news, I just need to talk_

 _tmrw or are you away?_ Chaz texts back.

 _I’m in town, tomorrow works_ , Jared texts.

 _wanna grab lunch?_ Chaz asks, and Jared almost says yes, but this is probably something they need privacy for.

 _Come over for lunch?_ Jared texts, and then gives Chaz his parent’s address.

Chaz shoots him a thumbs up, and Jared shows Bryce the conversation.

“Why’d you invite him to your parents’?” Bryce asks with a frown. “Why not here?”

“Because I think ‘hi, welcome to my stupid expensive place that I can somehow afford even though I don’t actually have a salary, please ignore all the Bryce Marcus memorabilia on the walls’ might give him an idea something’s going on with us before I actually tell him,” Jared says. “Either that or he’ll think I broke into your apartment.”

“Oh,” Bryce says. “You’re smart.”

“I’ve been told that,” Jared says.

“You’re a smart _ass_ ,” Bryce amends.

“Been told that too,” Jared says. “Probably more.”

“You deserve both of them,” Bryce says. Jared considers that a compliment, and kisses Bryce’s cheek in thanks.

*

The next morning breakfast is pretty comfortable. There’s a layer of — something, sitting under the surface, something unsettled, but it’s early, and in the meantime there’s coffee and oatmeal and Bryce’s ankle tucked between Jared’s under the table, and fuck, Jared missed it. 

Bryce drags him up to the gym once the morning people have filtered out to go to work, showers at home with him after, even though it’s cramped with the two of them, and it all feels good right up until Jared realises he has to head out if he wants to make it to his parents’ before Chaz does.

“You sure about this?” Jared asks before he heads out.

“He’s good people, right?” Bryce asks.

“He’s good people,” Jared says. It’s not the exact words he’d use to describe Chaz, but it’s accurate enough.

“Okay,” Bryce says, to that and everything.

 _Really sure you want me to do this?_ , Jared texts after he gets to his mom and dad’s, does a quick check to make sure no one’s home sick or anything. All clear. _Chaz and I can just chill, I don’t have to tell him today_.

Jared would have to make up something pretty quick, because Chaz sent a bunch of concerned sounding texts this morning, but he could turn it into being insecure about his hockey or something. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch.

_I dunno about sure but u shud yeah_

_Serious question: phones have autocorrect, did you turn yours off or do you actively try to spell things wrong?_ Jared texts. It has been bugging him for over a literal year.

 _fuck off_ , Bryce texts, but then follows it up with a kissy face.

Jared sends one right back, and is in the midst of a cutting but loving response when the doorbell goes, so Jared has to scrap it.

“Yo,” Chaz says. “I know you said lunch was here, but I brought some. You like penne arrabbiata, right?”

“Yeah, thanks man,” Jared says. “I can make us a salad to go with it if you want.” He’ll leave some money for his parents on the kitchen table.

“Sure,” Chaz says, following him into the kitchen and putting the takeout containers down on the table. Jared’s hungry, but he knows Bryce is probably like, waiting for an update, so he should probably mention the whole reason Chaz is here. Though the pasta smells really —

“So what’s up?” Chaz asks, deciding it for him.

“Uh, we should sit down, maybe?” Jared says. It’s awkward standing around the table if he’s going to do this. He kind of hates Bryce for pawning it off on him, because it’s awkward, but he knows Chaz better, and it’d be way more awkward for Bryce, so he’ll suck it up, he guesses.

“You _are_ dying,” Chaz says, but he grabs a seat at the table, and Jared takes the one beside him, because sitting across from him feels weirdly, like, formal.

“I’m not dying,” Jared says. “So, you know, uh, my boyfriend BJ?”

“You guys break up?” Chaz asks, all sympathetic sounding. “Because if you want a night out, man—”

“We’re good!” Jared says. “We’re still together. But uh, you know him. And we figured you should probably, like, know that.”

“I don’t get it,” Chaz says.

“Like, you’ve met,” Jared says. “Well, met’s an understatement.”

Chaz frowns. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know a BJ.”

“His name’s not actually BJ, that’s like, an alias,” Jared says. “Because I didn’t want anyone to figure out who I was actually dating if they saw my phone or something.”

“You’ve totally lost me dude,” Chaz says apologetically.

“It’s Bryce,” Jared says.

“Uh,” Chaz says.

“Marcus,” Jared says, just to make sure there isn’t any chance of miscommunication. Who knows, maybe Chaz knows a dozen Bryces. Probably not, but. “BJ’s Bryce.”

Chaz looks around like someone might be listening.

“Um,” Jared says, because it’s not like they’re going to be overheard, that’s kind of the exact reason Jared invited him over here. 

“Okay, so no one’s like, filming my reaction,” Chaz says.

“What?” Jared says. “Did you expect like, Bryce hiding in the corner?”

“Dude,” Chaz says. “Like, you don’t know Bryce if you thought I’d fall for this.”

Jared resists a hysterical laugh. 

“And this is kind of shitty,” Chaz says. “Like, don’t use your sexuality as a joke, Jared.”

“Oh my god,” Jared says, pulling his phone out. “Give me your phone,” he says.

“Why,” Chaz says warily.

“Okay, fine,” Jared says. “Just pull up Bryce’s number for me?”

“I’m not going to call him,” Chaz says.

“I didn’t ask you to!” Jared says. “Just pull it up and like, look at it.”

Chaz gives him a weird look, but appears to do so, and Jared shoves his own phone under Chaz’s nose, open to BJ in his contacts, and, obviously, the same damn number. He’d show the texts of him and Bryce talking about telling Chaz, but Chaz is already being ridiculously suspicious, so who knows whether he’d think that was made up, and anyway, their conversations are private. It’s one thing to show Bryce his texts with Chaz about meeting up, and a whole other thing to show Chaz Bryce shooting him a kissy face after Jared mercilessly chirps him. That’s like — too intimate, for some reason. The matching numbers should do it though.

“Who gave you Bryce’s number?” Chaz says.

Jared is going to _strangle_ Chaz.

Strangling is bad, so Jared snatches his phone back and texts Bryce instead. _Hey can you text Chaz with ‘it’s true’ or something, apparently it’s beyond comprehension that you’d slum enough to be with me and I am kind of offended right now_ , Jared texts, followed by, _It’s that or I ask if he’s ever noticed the scar on your lower back at this point._

 _ok_ , Bryce texts, and Chaz’s phone buzzes almost immediately after.

“Um,” Chaz says, staring down at it, presumably at a text Bryce sent.

“If you accuse me of somehow stealing his phone too—” Jared says.

“No, um,” Chaz says. “ _Seriously_?”

Jared is officially _very_ offended.

“He’s really —” Chaz says, then, “BJ, Jared? You have him in your phone as _BJ_?”

“Bryce Justin,” Jared says. “It’s his actual initials. Also—”

“Do not say it!” Chaz says. 

Jared smirks. He wasn’t going to, but Chaz’s voice going hilariously shrill is amazing.

“But you’ve been dating BJ — Bryce — for like, ever,” Chaz says.

“Well, like a year and a bit, but yeah,” Jared says.

“And it’s like, serious,” Chaz says.

“I live with him, so,” Jared says.

“You — holy shit, dude,” Chaz says. “How do you — when did you — what the fuck.”

“You okay there, Chaz?” Jared asks.

“Just processing,” Chaz says, then, “Dude, you were dating the Flames’ leading scorer all last season and you didn’t tell _anyone_?” 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Jared says.

“Goddamn,” Chaz says, then, frowning, “Um, Jay, I don’t know if this is breaking like, teammate rules, but you’re my bud, and if it’s serious, and you like, live together, so it’s serious—”

Jared raises his eyebrows.

“Bryce like—” Chaz says, looking awkward. “He kind of — I think he’s hooking up with other people? And I don’t know if you know that, or.”

“Women or men?” Jared asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

“Uh,” Chaz says. “Women.”

“He’s not,” Jared says. “That’s — he’s not. But thanks for looking out for me, seriously.”

“I dunno if you—” Chaz says. “Like, he _really_ —” He stops, even more awkward looking.

“Flirts with them?” Jared guesses, hoping to put him out of his misery. “Really obviously?” 

“I—” Chaz says, looking confused, then, “Oh shit, you were there Friday, did he not know you were there, or—”

“He did,” Jared says.

Chaz just looks more confused, and honestly, who could blame him.

“It’s apparently called pretending to be straight,” Jared says. “I’ve never really tried it, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Dude,” Chaz says. “That’s not pretending to be straight, that’s pretending to be a fuckboy.”

“Is there a difference?” Jared asks.

Chaz punches his arm. Hard.

“Ow!” Jared says.

“Tell your boyfriend that being straight doesn’t mean being a fuckboy,” Chaz says. “Because the team definitely talks about him being a douchebag with women. I always thought it was weird because he’s cool otherwise, and I guess — things make more sense now. Kinda.”

“Tell him yourself,” Jared says.

“I will,” Chaz says.

“Good,” Jared says. Honestly, it’s something Bryce should probably hear, and if it’s Chaz saying it Bryce can’t do a whole ‘how would you know, you’re not straight either’ like Jared suspects he might do with Jared. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, okay,” Chaz says, and when Jared gets up, he says, “He lives here?” all disbelievingly. Which, yeah, it totally looks like a place a middle-aged couple have, because, well, that’s what it is. There’s even a ‘live, laugh, love’ print framed in their damn hall, despite Jared and Erin’s numerous protests.

“Nah, this is my parents’,” Jared says. “I thought you might put shit together before I told you in a living room that has all his hockey shit in it. Though like, maybe I was overestimating you.”

“Hey,” Chaz says.

“You thought I was _pranking_ you,” Jared says.

“Well, he just seemed—” Chaz says. “I dunno, I thought he was straight.”

Bryce would be delighted to know he comes across so straight Chaz couldn’t reconcile his impression of Bryce with having a boyfriend.

No fucking way Jared’s telling Bryce Chaz said that. 

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Jared says after transferring the pasta to bowls, sticking the first in the microwave. Screw salad, honestly, this is a carbs only conversation. “And don’t talk about this with him in front of the team.”

“No shit,” Chaz says. “Did I ever talk about him with you in front of the team?”

“No,” Jared says. “I know you’re — you’re good, man, but he’s really sensitive about this. Like, you’re the only Flame who knows, he isn’t cool with people knowing about us.”

“Okay,” Chaz says. “Should I like — act like I don’t know, or thank him for letting me know and leave it at that, or like, support him, or—”

It is kind of disturbing how often Jared’s wanted to kiss Chaz on the fucking mouth lately. He tries to remember the strangling urge, but it’s long gone. 

“Maybe let him come to you about it?” Jared says. “I’ll talk to him, but this is like — this is a big deal for him, so.”

“I get it,” Chaz says, taking the bowl Jared hands him and then grinding a truly absurd amount of pepper on it, like it isn’t already supposed to be spicy. “So why tell me? Like, I’m obviously like, cool with it, but—”

“I told him you were good people,” Jared says. “That you won’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Chaz says immediately.

“I know,” Jared says. “That’s why. We kind of — this is like, boring relationship shit, but I didn’t know he was like, pretending to be straight around you guys and we kind of had a fight.”

“That’s why you left early,” Chaz says.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Pretty much. So, I dunno, I don’t want to like — you know us both, I don’t want to talk about it or anything, I just — I dunno. You were pretty great when I was dealing with shit with him last year, so. Like, he needs someone who knows what’s up with him, someone on his side, and he doesn’t have that on the Flames.”

“He does now,” Chaz says, barely discernible through a mouthful of pasta, and Jared gives into the ridiculously strong urge to hug him.

Chaz audibly swallows his food. “Are we a huggy friendship now?” he asks. “I thought we were a hug on the ice, fist bump off the ice friendship. I kind of thought you were allergic to hugs.”

“We are,” Jared says. “I am. As soon as I let go we’ll never speak of it again.”

“Cool, take your time,” Chaz says, and pats his forearm.


End file.
